


Shall We Try

by celeste9



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Pre-Relationship, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2016-08-31
Packaged: 2018-08-12 05:28:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7922254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celeste9/pseuds/celeste9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I wish this could work,” Bruce whispers into Natasha’s hair.</p>
<p>She lets him think she is asleep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shall We Try

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt, 'things you said when you thought I was asleep'

Natasha finds Bruce a calming and relaxing fixture in her life, though she fully admits how odd that is, all things considered. She wonders if he has always been like that or if it’s only something he has developed since the accident, as a way to cope with his emotions. Either way, Natasha gravitates towards him after long days, after bad days, and even just on good days. 

She sits beside him in the quinjet after missions, she goes into his lab and parks herself on one of the tables to watch him while he works, she joins him for tea or for meals. Sometimes they talk and sometimes they don’t but Bruce always makes Natasha feel better, somehow.

Just now she is sitting beside him on the couch, a book in her lap. Bruce is reading, too, though not for pleasure. Though, actually, his science journals likely are pleasure reading as far as Bruce is concerned.

Natasha is content enough with her dystopian future YA novel. Sure, the plot’s vaguely familiar, but sometimes you just want something comforting that doesn’t take too much thought. 

She isn’t sure when exactly she ended up pressed against Bruce’s side but the warm pressure of his body is soothing and Natasha finds herself slowly relaxing to the point of near-sleep, the book sliding from her fingers and the words blurring before her eyes, her head leaning until the weight seems too heavy for her neck to hold and she lets it drop onto Bruce’s shoulder.

Sometimes Natasha lets herself think about this, lets herself want it. She thinks about how it would be, with Bruce, thinks about his hands on her body, his mouth on her skin. She thinks about waking up with him, thinks about intimacy, about vulnerability, about how somehow it almost feels like something she could do, if it was with Bruce. She thinks about his sweet, shy smile, the soft, rare sound of his laughter, and thinks maybe he would get it. Thinks he would get _her._

It is alternately thrilling and terrifying.

Natasha is dimly aware of Bruce’s arm around her shoulders, of his gaze on her instead of his journal. Right now, with a certain, dream-like sense of clarity, Natasha knows that she isn’t the only one who thinks these things, sometimes.

“I wish this could work,” Bruce whispers into Natasha’s hair.

She lets him think she is asleep.

-

She actually does fall asleep, completely, and wakes to Bruce’s gentle voice and his hands on her shoulders. Natasha has always been able to wake fully and instantaneously at the slightest provocation, a gift from the Red Room. She looks into Bruce’s brown eyes.

“Thought you might want to sleep in your bed,” he says, seeming apologetic, rubbing the back of his head.

“You made a surprisingly comfortable pillow,” she tells him and watches him blush.

“For an hour, maybe. In the morning you would have regretted it.”

“I doubt that would even make the bottom of the list of my regrets.” Natasha stretches, keeping herself from smiling at the way Bruce’s eyes watch her and then flicker away.

She stands anyway, though, gets her book from off the floor. Bruce stands with her, says, “Well, good night. Sleep well.”

Natasha lets her gaze slide over him thoughtfully, considers. She has many regrets. She wonders how Bruce will fit among them, and in what way. 

“You can’t know if something will work unless you try,” Natasha says and presses her lips to his cheek.

_**End** _


End file.
